Daughter of War
by StarNebula
Summary: A story on how Joyce helps her friend Aella cope with MAJOR changes in her life. Cannon pairings. Cover art belongs to Viria, (She's awesome) and characters do not belong to me (except OC) Set a month or so after Blood of Olympus so spoilers. First time writing fanfiction, and I'm not sure where I'll go with this. But enjoy! -SN


**Look, I don't bother a whole lot with Author's Notes, but know this: this is my first fanfiction any review is welcomed especially suggestions. Criticism is accepted as long as it is constructive. Answers to questions go at end of chapter. Summary really says it all. Yadah yadah, you get the drill. Oh, my nickname is Star Nebula, but call me SN. Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or HoO; Rick Riordan/Uncle Rick/The God of Trolls does. I'll shut up now.**

I love to swim. Been swimming since I could say "Mama". It reminds me of my grandfather, a seasoned swimmer, who was very dear to me, but he died near my 6th birthday. He was an old man, and he died peacefully, passed away in his sleep. Don't say the corny "I'm so sorry" because there's nothing you can do about it, and I don't want your pity. Let his name live in glory and honor, and not be wept upon. He would never want that. But ever since his death, I started to swim vigorously. I'm in 10th grade now, and I'm the captain of the swim team, even if I'm far from the oldest.

My Coach's name is Coach Larson, but he stubbornly insisted we call him Daniel or just plain Coach. He was a kind gentlemen, and one of the best swimmer in the state of New York "back in the days" as he puts it. That will earn a chuckle from the team, who he called them his "precious little fishies". I don't wish for any other person to train me. Well except my grandfather, but he's dead and there's nothing to change that. Anyway back to Coach. He was skilled, yes most definitely, but old. These days he never steps into the water, but he continues to teach us. I never thought he would kick the bucket anytime soon. But apparently, his age pained him more than he let on. I must say, he's a good actor. It was a normal swim session when he announced the news.

We had just finished our warm up when he called us ashore. I was puzzled; we usually immediately moved to the kick drills with me supervising and correcting any wrong moves. Apparently, I wasn't the only one confused. Coach waited until all the curious chatter died down.

"Okay team, you know your coach Daniel is old," he started. "On my next birthday, I'll be turning 80." I was shocked. That was truly old. Gasps of amazement escaped from the team. Mutters of congratulations also made itself heard. Daniel smiled lightly and continued. "That is a right old age, it is. Most people would have long retired, but I loved swimming too much. But, this recent year, my back have been paining me greatly, yet I don't want you to know. My doctor said I should retire soon, or else I could be expecting a stroke from too much stress." Mumbles of horror went up at this. But Coach plowed gamely on. "Next Thursday I'll be hitting that decade. I plan on that being my last day. Yesterday, Principal Stone has allowed me to have my party here, and I wish you would all attend." He smiled amiably, and I don't think anyone would ever refuse him.

Suddenly, a question popped into my mind. "Coach, who will be teaching us with you gone?" Mumbles of curiosity followed. Old Daniel suddenly have a gleam in his eyes. "Oh yes, good question Joyce. About that. As most of you know, I still attend City Meets as a judge there. Last year, I met a young man with quite a passion for swimming. You would find him very... hmm... interesting. Yes, interesting would be a good word. He's better than me, even at the height of my short lived glory!" I stared, dumbfounded. Even better than Daniel Larson who won all those gold medals all those years ago?! This boy must be something.

"OK, back to the kick drill, everyone!" Coach announced. "I want twenty laps of each style done today!" We all groaned. Sometimes, Coach can be real strict.

Neither of my parents came home until at least 7 PM today (mom have an all important teacher meeting and Dad's working late at the restaurant to earn some extra money.) Swim ended a bit early today, so it's only 4:45. I'm aching all over with all the swimming we've been doing. Coach's getting us ready for regionals (looming up one month from now), and he's working us HARD. The boys getting into a debate who's the better diver didn't help either. We have a recent edition to the team. She's good, but apparently, she never had a proper lesson before, and had some moves wrong. I spent an entire 30 minutes coaching her on how to properly do a butterfly kick. She's getting better now... maybe even have a chance at entering the regionals. Right now, what I need is some food, rest, and music. Being the daughter of a cook does have its perks. Like all children, I liked to imitate my father. He saw my interest and taught me some of his dishes. I opened the refrigerator and took a look at its contents. Hmm… the perfect ingredient for Bucatini ai Frutti di Mare. I cracked my knuckles, and began to cook.

An hour later when I just finished cooking, I heard the doorbell ring. "Coming!" I called. I'm guessing it would be maybe, back from the "all important teacher meeting", but I was surprised to find my best friend Aella standing huddled at the door.

"Can I come in? Dad's drunk and mumbling about something that happened to his comrades on the battlefield. He's SERIOUSLY creeping me out," she explained.

"Yeah sure," I answered. I know how crazy can be when he's drunk. "Come right in. I just made some Bucatini ai Frutti di Mare and it serves 5. I'm sure we can spare some."

"Thanks," she muttered, and slipped through the door.

Aella blinked rapidly. "Wow. I forgotten how blinding your house is." "Hey, it's called cozy, and peach-orange is a _cozy_ color," I told her, annoyed. "And blinding." I rolled my eyes. There's no way I can win an argument with her.

See, we've known each other since when we were six, when Aella's dad decided to move because he got the notion that the house they had was on "evil land". No one understood why, but his mind was set and they moved to here, New York, the big apple. Again, people don't know why, but no one wanted to challenge him. He was a buff dude that had military training and he's six feet tall. He can beat you up in 10 seconds flat. But the real reason we bonded was not because we were neighbors, but because we can see things others can't. Creepy you say? Just wait. Our story just get weirder and weirder.

 **So, wotcha think? I know it's so freaking short, but I used up all my brain juice. O_O Also, I'll update when I feel like it. Sometimes I'll have tons of time and no idea how to waste it and I already watched a lot of Legend of Korra episodes, so I'll write. Other times, I'm just trying to get all my work done. Also. Grammar. I'm trying to improve, but I suck at it. I get A's on everything, except Grammar. So try and help me guys.**


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